


Traffic Stop

by SarielLunar



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, Police Officer Stiles Stilinski, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-10
Updated: 2016-03-10
Packaged: 2018-05-25 22:09:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6212092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SarielLunar/pseuds/SarielLunar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek was going was going eighty in a fifty mile an hour zone. What a way to get re-introduced to the Beacon HIll's Sheriff's Department.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Traffic Stop

Flashing lights in Derek’s rearview mirror caught the werewolf’s attention and annoyance. Not even back in Beacon Hill five minutes and he was already getting in trouble. Obediently, the werewolf pulled over his SUV and waited patiently with both hands on the steering wheel. Considering his past with the BHSD he didn’t want to give them an excuse to pull a gun on him. He watched in the rearview as the officer got out of the patrol car and started walking towards his car. He was tall and broad shouldered that tapered down to a narrow waist circled by a thick heavy gun belt. It exaggerated the man’s gait into a sensual swagger that kept Derek’s attention until he was at his driver’s side. The expected two knocks on his window were his signal to lower the window. The scent got him before the voice reached him.  
“License and registration, Sourwolf.”  
Derek turned shocked eyes over to a very different and matured Stiles Stillinski. A Stiles Stiliinski who had very much filled out. His build was closer to a slimmer version of his father. His dark hair was just about the same though. That same tousled look he wore when Derek left the pack all those years ago. Eight years. How old would that make him now? Twenty-five.  
“Stiles?”  
“Deputy or Deputy Stillinski, Mr. Hale, if you please. Now, license and registration.” The older man rolled his eyes and reached it to the pocket of his leather jacket to retrieve his wallet.  
“I can’t believe you of all people are a cop,” he muttered under his breath.  
“Hearing works just fine, Hale,” Stiles said watching him with a smirk. Derek turned back to the younger man with the requested items and froze at what he saw. Stiles was watching him with a set of luminous blue eyes. “Probably better than you think.” With Derek frozen in shock, Stiles plucked the license and registration from his fingers.  
Finally, free of his stupor, he was able to speak on the subject at hand. Stiles was a werewolf! The one human he’d known that was adamant that he’d never wanted the bite. And his eyes…  
“What happened?”  
“You were driving eighty miles an hour in a fifty mile an hour area, that’s what happened. You should know better than that,” Stiles tisked mockingly as the glow vanished and he began filling out the information for the ticket. Derek glared as the evasion the man famous for. He’d have to talk to Scott as soon as possible. That would be the only way he was going to get any answers.  
“Okay. Just sign here,” Stiles voice brought him out of his thoughts by shoving the citation holder in front of him and holding out a pen. Robotically, Derek signed the ticket. With a click of his tongue, Deputy Stillinski took out Derek’s copy of the ticket folded it in half and handed it over. “Okay you can mail that puppy in or appear in court on the date listed on there. Keep it under fifty, Hale.” Without another word, Stiles turned away and went back to his patrol car. Moments later, the vehicle drove off leaving a bewildered Derek staring after it.  
After a while, Derek’s eyes moved to look down at the ticket. There was something tucked inside. He unfolded it and saw a business card. Thick brows shot nearly into his hairline. Slowly he tilted his head as he rotated the card ninety degrees in the opposite direction. Was that really his name? How do you even say that? No wonder he preferred the nickname. It had the Sherriff’s office number with his extension and email. He flipped the card over.  
“Gimme a call if you want, Sourwolf.” Beneath the invitation was a phone number.

**Author's Note:**

> My first posted Sterek. Hope you guys like it. It may be the beginning of a series if it gains in popularity. I do have ideas and such. This is the first bit of writing I've been able to do in about three months because of depression. So I'm kinda proud of it. Hope you guys like it,


End file.
